


La Vie En Rose

by orphan_account



Series: Hazbin Hotel Oneshots [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Vivziepop - All Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Can we give Rosie a hug, Can we ship it? Is that allowed?, Crime??, Dancing, F/F, Flowers, Gen, Help, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Inspired by Music, LETS GO LESBIANS, Lesbians, Murder, Must hug them, One Shot, Pining, Something Made Them Do It, Takes place on earth for a little bit, The flower symbolism is strong with this one, Viv is gonna hate me, i don't know why i did this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rosie has deeper connections with the royal family than most people might think.Particularly with one Lilith Magne.
Relationships: Alastor/Lucifer Magne, Lilith Magne & Evelyn Magne, Lilith Magne & Lucifer Magne, Lilith Magne & Original Female Character(s), Lilith Magne & Rosie, Lilith Magne/Adam Carlyle, Lilith Magne/Lucifer Magne, Lilith Magne/Rosie
Series: Hazbin Hotel Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772986
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	La Vie En Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ricehair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricehair/gifts).



Like most things, Rosemary Calvet and Lilith Magne’s story did not start with a pleasant meeting in a garden. 

It started, simply, with a party at a bonfire. There were drinks, of course, and smoke floating up into the starless sky. People were clapping and laughing and whooping as if nothing was wrong with them, as if their problems would disappear with another guzzle, another turn. Rosemary Calvet was there, but as the night wore on, she wasn’t sure why. The alcohol was blurring her vision, her normally immaculate and clean dress and shoes were covered in mud. She’d snuck out of her bedroom window to come here, but she was wondering why she didn’t just take money and go to the theater. 

And then, like a sign from the heavens, a girl sat next to her. The first thing Rosemary noticed about her was her dress, which was dark purple and cheap. The second was her hair, and in one moment, she knew where all of the stars had gone. They were weaved in-and-out of her curly hair, lighting it up, making her brilliant. 

The girl with the starry hair turned to her, “This beer sucks, don’t you think?” 

She looked over, and she smiled, “Yes, I suppose it does. I’ve - Truthfully I don’t drink beer all that much. My family doesn’t like it when I drink.”  
  
“So, that’s why you’re here? Your family?” 

She paused, “Aren’t we all?”  
  
The girl smiled, “I guess. I’m Lilli Magne.” 

Lilli had a nice voice, Rosemary decided, a voice like dewdrops on a stem, like the morning after a rainstorm. Refreshing, she was a welcome break from the husky smoke. And the stars in her hair, she could’ve sworn that moths were drawn to it more than the fire. Lilli was soaking up all of the light, from everywhere. 

“I’m Rosie,” she said, “Rosie Calvet. It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“Calvet? Like Bertrand Calvet?” 

“I’m his daughter, actually. I can confirm, he’s as insufferable as he is in his commercials.” 

She smiled, her smile was filled with stars as well, “I figured.” 

“What about your family? I mean - I’ve never heard of the Magnes before.” 

She looked down for a minute, “We haven't had status since...well, may their memories be a blessing.”

“Dear Lord, I’m sorry. If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you?”

She seemed to be taken aback by this, nobody must’ve asked her that so politely before. 

“I was eleven.” 

Rosie noticed, then, the sparkling silver cross around the redhead’s neck. It looked to be fake silver, but it shined like the real thing, and she supposed it did what it should. Rosie had the rather peculiar thought that if the devil were to come after someone, it certainly would be Lilli, for corrupting her would be a rather fun thing to do. She would be the type you whisper murder to, she would be the girl that was locked up for poisoning her husband and noted as a stellar example of why girls shouldn’t do much. 

“Would you like to dance with me, Rosie?” Lilli asked, pointing to all of the couples in front of them. Music was playing, and people were engaged in what looked to be one of those party dances, the ones that the daughter of Bertrand Calvet wouldn’t dream of performing. Lilli got up and held out her hand, a delicate offer of joy. 

Rosie took a bit of a breath, but it wasn’t because she was about to say something. She had just noticed her eyes, and they were the prettiest color she’d ever encountered. Unlike her own dull browns, Lilli’s eyes were forest green, almost unearthly. Her hair and smile may have been made out of the stars, but her eyes were early morning grass, dew and all, sunlight bound inside them. The fire lit them up brighter, so there were little orange dots and dashes inside them. 

She was morning, Rosie decided, morning in the middle of the night. Morning where morning shouldn’t be. 

Rosie took Lilli’s hand. “I would love to. I can’t promise I’m any good, though.” 

They danced for the rest of the night. Years and years later, Rosie would always remember that dance, the ever-spinning surroundings, the people laughing and cheering, and morning. Morning where morning shouldn’t be, dancing with drunks, holding onto another girl’s arms, spinning and spinning. For a moment there, nothing seemed wrong with the world, and it was just Lilli and Rosie, dancing and leering and letting happiness bubble in their throats. 

After Lilli started to walk off, Rosie thought it was the end of it. Yet, her heart ached when she thought that she would never get to see her again. A constant morning, just walking around, doing regular things. It made her mind want to fizz up, to spark and stop dead. _Never see her again, you’re a Calvet! Do you want her to get away from you? Do you actually want her to leave?_

For the next month, they met up at the exact same spot, and they danced and drank and kissed. Rosie found Lilli’s presence comforting, her manner of speaking free, and her ideas spectacular. She could design the most elegant dresses, her singing voice was absolutely wonderful, and she could fend off people much bigger than herself. She wasn’t a year or two older than Rosie, but she found herself looking up to the older girl much more than she would like. 

A bruise appeared on her face, one day. She said it was her sister, who had accidentally bumped her into a wall, but halfway through the night she changed it and said she’d slipped and fell onto the ground. 

“Your sister,” Rosie said, “it wasn’t an accident, was it?” 

Some people yelled in the distance. 

“Look, I don’t want to talk about this.” Lilli took a swing of her cheap wine, the stuff she seemed to like the most. 

“We could get her arrested for that, you know. You could move in with me. You’d never have to deal with it, not to mention you could finally get your designs made.” 

“I don’t want my designs made,” that was the biggest lie Rosie had ever heard, “and believe me, I’m okay. I will always be okay.” 

But too soon did Lilli announce that she’d have to stop this, for someone was courting her. His name was Adam Carlyle, a smooth-talking store owner, and she’d said it very practically. They couldn’t kiss anymore, they couldn’t meet, Rosie couldn’t cuddle into morning’s lap as the fire roared, morning couldn’t run her hands through Rosie’s silky hair. 

“I really like him, Rosie. I can’t keep coming anymore and doing things with you if I’m already married.” 

“I don’t see why you can’t. I mean - many husbands cheat on their wives, and it’s not like you can’t cheat on your husband. Why can’t you keep seeing me?”

She moved her eyes away. “Rosie, this is wrong. Not just the cheating thing, but two women, this is wrong. I can go to hell for this.” 

The cross around her neck sparkled. 

“You’re much too lovely to go to hell.”  
  
“I appreciate it, but we have to stop. I’m not damming you, too.” 

Lilli didn’t appear the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. Rosie didn’t bother coming, either, and she decided to accept it. Her love was married, she was best to move on and pretend to not be in love with her at all. Was it even love? Or was Rosie just taken in by morning’s eyes and hair, her mighty singing voice and her permanently red lips? She was halfway convinced that she couldn’t love, that love wasn’t a gene that Calvets came with. 

So she buried it. She stored her love deep inside herself and covered it up with high society. She smothered it in silken dresses and promises to marry a man of high standing. But it was still blooming, still burdened, the sky would now always be tainted. Even the brightest, best morning was a horrible ripoff of her morning, of the girl with starlight blonde hair and eyes cut right out of the great beyond. Love wasn’t this hard to lose, was it? You could bang love deep into the ground and forget about it, that was how love worked! 

When they saw each other again, it had been years. Rosie was now married as well, and Lilli couldn’t move without frowning and looking like she was in some sort of pain. It was in an odd restaurant, with even odder waiters and flowers on the tables. 

“Lilli Magne,” Rosie said, in front of her table. She smiled.

“Rosie Calvet,” Lilli smiled back. 

Her smile was still made out of stars. 

Lilli wore a black trenchcoat draped over her cheap black dress, and her shoes were high heeled. Rosie saw the outline of a sketchbook in a pocket of the coat, and she wore a necklace with a ruby pendant. It stood out among her low-class clothing, the gem looked to be hand-cut in a heart. 

Rosie slid into a chair across from her, “Why are you alone?” 

“My husband had to go out.”

There was a pause. There was something in Lilli’s eyes, maybe, that they simply looked green and not like the earth anymore. That she’d lost morning. 

“He - I’m going to kill him. You watch me.” 

Lilli shrugged. “How’re you doing, flower? What’s been going on?” 

Rosie sighed. “I got married. I plan on opening up a dress emporium.” 

“That’s wonderful! I bet it's going to be absolutely beautiful. Will there be a discount for me? I’d adore to shop there.” 

Rosie smiled a little more. “I’m still trying to figure it out, but I hope so. Are you still drawing?” 

She nodded, and pulled out her sketchbook from her pocket. “It’s mostly just flowers now, but..” 

“Can I see?” 

Lilli turned around the paper. Rosie was astounded, to say the least, they were the most lifelike drawn flowers she’d ever seen. She wanted to cut them out, and plant them, for they’d surely grow. Lilli had always loved flowers, even in the times they’d talked before. She had many gardens, she’d learned, full of bluebells, anemones, poppies, and, of course, lilies. She sometimes brought a rose, for Rosie to pin into her hair. 

There was a page full of roses, she could see that. Page full of roses, page full of lilies, and then what looked to be an unfinished drawing of what looked like someone in a suit. She pushed the sketchbook back. 

“You could make some good money off of this, you realize that, right? Lilli, you’re _good._ ” 

She laughed, slightly. “I don’t want to sell it, nobody would buy it. It’s pretty bad, anyways, the entire concept of the thing.” 

“Your flowers? They’re -” 

“They’re not good. That’s it.” 

The conversation continued on as normal, but Rosie couldn’t help focusing on how quickly she shut down the idea of her flowers being nicely drawn. Being what they were. They ate lunch as regular, and Lilli toyed with the pendant on her neck throughout the meal. It looked really flashy, and it replaced the cross. It was a little odd to see, given how it stood out against her other clothes, but it otherwise looked good on her. Red was certainly her color.

“Where’d you get the necklace?” 

Lilli ignored the question, “The food is great here, isn’t it?”  
  
“Where’d you get the necklace?” 

There was a pause, “A friend.” 

Rosie could see it on her face, she was lying. 

“Your husband?” 

“No.” 

There was another pause. 

“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” 

“Maybe.” 

Nobody spoke for another ten minutes exactly. Rosie knew, she was counting. 

“Didn’t you say cheating was immoral?” 

“I said a woman dating a woman was immoral.”  
  
Rosie couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Is - Are they a girl?” 

“No.” 

She looked down, “You don’t really think that, right? That girls dating girls will send you to - wherever we’ll go.” 

“I don’t, but I still...Look, flower, I don’t really want to talk about it.”  
  
“What’s his name? At least give me that. What’s his name?” 

Lilli looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, “Lucifer. His name is Lucifer.” 

Rosie huffed. His name had to be outrageous, had to be odd. Who in their right mind named their kid Lucifer? What mother looked down at their baby, what father, and went _ah, I know what I’ll name this precious baby, Lucifer!_ God, this Lucifer probably wasn’t big anyways. A man who blew his money on girl after girl after girl, seeing each as a passing fancy. He would break Lilli’s heart, and then move onto another pretty thing. Another lady, but something in her heart told her that this was wrong. She was jealous. She was jealous of a guy who was secretly dating a girl she hadn’t seen in over five years. 

They walked out together, pendant still swaying on Lilli’s chest. They were near the edge of the city, simply a line stretching out towards the horizon, and they were on a bench. 

“You know, my real name isn’t even Lilli.” 

Rosie was taken aback by this. Lilli wasn’t the type to really lie, it didn’t seem like that to her, maybe she was blinded. She went back, thinking about everything she said, and considered it. She could’ve been lying about every single thing she’d told her, and Rosie was keeping it as the truth. 

“Mine isn’t Rosie, either.”  
  
“My real name is Lilith. Lilith Catherine Magne. I figured you’d like to know.” 

“Well, I’m Rosemary. Rosemary Georgina Calvet.” 

“That’s pretty.” 

“Thank you.” 

They both listened to the sounds of the city as they looked straight ahead, not even turning to look at one another. Somehow it was enough. 

“You know, I think you should come and see me at my house, sometime.” 

Rosie didn’t know what to think about this. “Why, exactly?”

Lilith breathed, but just out of her nose, “In about a week, I’m going to run from here. I want to see you before I go.” 

This made Rosie smile, smile wide in fact. She was a little confused on why she couldn’t just run now, run with her more like it, but she would be satisfied with just seeing her again. “Where are you running to? I’d be happy to pick you up.” 

“I can’t let you, I’m going by myself. The people there are horrible to outsiders, the only reason I’m going is-” 

“Lucifer,” Rosie cut Lilith off, a hint of sadness in her voice, “you’re running off to marry Lucifer.” 

Lilith nodded, “Yes, yes I am. If all goes well, my house on Saturday?” 

“When?” She asked. _When? When will you look towards me? When will you love me back? When can we dance like we used to? When will we be able to be together? When can morning come back, and you’ll outshine the sun and the moon and the stars? When will you and I kiss again? When will we joke about how terrible my parents are? When-_

“Whenever you can. I’m leaving late Sunday evening.” 

“I’ll be there to send you off!”

“Don’t be. I don’t want you to see it.” 

Lilith gave Rosie her address, and she walked off as soon as she was able to. 

That week, Rosie fussed over her appearance. She styled her short chestnut hair, curled her short eyelashes, tried to make her lips as red as Lilith’s were. For her, she’d be remarkable, for her, her dull brown eyes would turn to shining almonds, all for her. She would not let Lilith go off without realizing what she missed out on. 

When she got there on Saturday, of course, things didn’t go as planned. Instead of Lilith, there were swarms of policemen. Lilith’s sister, Evelyn, who she was told would be out, was crying hysterically. She simply stood in front, shocked. 

“She-She said she would be here,” Rosie whispered, “She said she would be here. Where’s Lilith? Where _is_ she?”

She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. What happened? What happened? Her throat was closing up. Her stomach shoved the food around like slop. What was going on? There was blood across the floor of the house, so much blood. Adam Carlyle found dead, good riddance, but his wife’s body nowhere to be found. Tons of her blood, though, tons, and Rosie could feel tears rolling down her cheeks. Her cheeks that were plastered in makeup, all for a dead woman. 

“This - I was - She’s dead, isn’t she?” Her voice sounded hoarse and unmoving. _No. No. No._ She could not die! She was running away with her boyfriend on Sunday, with Lucifer whoever-he-was, she was going to be happy! _Happy!_ Who took away her ability to be happy? God didn’t mean to strike her down, He couldn’t have! No! No! The devil must’ve come after her, she was right, someone poisoned her mind. Poisoned her mind and stole her body. 

A police officer turned to her, “Yes, I’m afraid. Who’re you, anyways?” 

_My name is Rosemary Calvet, and I love Lilith Magne more than anything._

“I’m Rosemary Calvet. I was - I was - I was her friend. Her good friend.” 

The rest of her life seemed like a blur. She ended up killing her husband and her parents, bashing kneecaps with radio hosts and their girlfriends, singing with her mediocre voice at bars. She never opened up that dress shop, instead she held up in an apartment and took everything else. She was a seamstress, a mathematician, a teacher, a socialite, an heiress. She took drinks hard and her coats fur. 

Eventually, she tried to forget. The name Lilith Magne or Lilli or Flower never crossed her mind. She moved on and on aimlessly, without knowing why. Whenever she would murder people with her friends, with others, she would feel a pit in the bottom of her stomach, and think _would she approve of this?_ Well, I don’t know who this ‘she’ is. Lose it and move.

Dying was easy for her. Dying was a gunshot through the head. The person who shot her was protecting his family, so he wouldn’t be punished. In a way, she felt she deserved death. After all of this mindlessness, after the constant feeling of loss, she wanted to start over. She wanted to entirely forget about what had happened, she wanted to simply be Rosie. 

Rosie came into hell with great gaps in her memory and a need to destroy. Her hair was now white, and her eyes were full black. Those seemed to be the primary colors in hell, a lot of girls had blonde hair. It didn’t matter. She kept it in the same style she had when she’d done the murders, short and hidden under a hat with feathers. She reinvented her smile to something terrifying, pulled across with her sharp teeth. She could shoot tar out of her hands, surprisingly, hot tar that melted buildings. It burned, of course it did, it made demons smoke and cry and scream. She liked it. She liked hearing the screams, and she liked causing them. 

The day Rosie was called to the palace was, in her mind, a rebirth. She wasn’t Rosemary Calvet, she wasn’t the high-class daughter of a businessman, she was a demon. A demon called Rosie, who murdered tons of people in her human life and shot tar out of her fingertips.

She had a meeting with the queen to discuss her new position. The queen dealt with the female overlords, not surprisingly, and just diplomatic things in general. Rosie had a feeling that meeting her wouldn’t exactly go well, but she brushed it off. She was invited to the palace garden to meet with her, a little odd, but she had to admit it served a purpose. The garden must be a little bit of Earth stored in Hell, a little bit of pleasantness for the king and queen to have. 

As soon as she entered the garden, she was astounded by the beauty of it. There were tons of flowers, some she could name and some she couldn’t, and various fruit trees in the distance. Tables made out of glass adorned the entire place, with pomegranates and apples on them. The entire place smelled like Earth, and it looked like Earth, but it wasn’t Earth. It was Hell, and this looked to be a recreation of a place held in the queen’s heart. 

There was a lady, kneeling down in the dirt. Her white hair was put up into a bun that was held in place with what looked like chopsticks, and she was extremely tall and skinny. She had two horns coming out of her head, purple horns, and she wore what looked like a red casual dress. It wasn’t cheap though, and even though she didn’t have a crown on, Rosie knew she was queen she was meeting with. 

She bowed, holding onto her skirts, “Your majesty, I am very pleased to meet you. I am Rosie.” 

The queen turned, “It is lovely to meet you as well. I’m Lilith Magne.”

You could say, perhaps, in that moment Rosie wanted to get up and run. She hadn’t heard that name in years, decades, and she was stuck in place. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She had literally told him his name, she wasn't wearing a cross. _Holy shit, she actually did it. She married him. She ran._ She felt her throat closing up, no. No! No! This could not be happening. Lilith Magne wasn’t a demon, she wasn’t the Queen of Hell, she couldn’t be! Lilith Magne didn’t do anything, Lilith Magne was the best person she had known! 

Lilith Magne wasn’t morning anymore, in fact she looked positively stripped of every morning attribute she had, but it was her. Even with her hair bleached white and drained of its stars, even with her cut-out sky eyes replaced with a yellow-silver, even with her horns, she was still Lilith Magne. Strangely enough, she didn’t look out of place here. She may not have been morning anymore, but she was in the right place. 

A queen where a queen should be, she supposed. 

Lilith got up, brushed the dirt off of her dress. She pulled out two chairs from a table, white chairs that didn’t look splattered in dirt. 

“Sit, please.” 

Rosie did. She felt her eyes filling up with tears, but she couldn’t let them out. Her plan wasn’t to make an absolute fool of herself in front of someone she was supposed to show respect to, but it happened. It happened and she wasn’t making any efforts to stop it. Lilith moved her own chair so she was right next to Rosie, and she hugged her tightly. 

“You’re married,” Rosie said, after they’d let go of each other, “I know. But - have you - did you ever love me? Ever?” Maybe it was the gaps, but Rosie wanted some sort of confirmation that she was not crying for a woman who had never loved her. She wouldn’t be around her if she found out that all of her years of emptiness were the result of some one-sided shit. 

She looked at Rosie for a good moment, head in her hands. “Yes, I did. For a while, actually. I think if Lucifer hadn’t shown up, I would’ve probably run away with you.” 

_So it was Lucifer, then._

Still, Rosie smiled. Lilith loved her, for at least one time in her life. It filled up the emptiness somehow, she felt better. Not great, she wouldn’t feel great for a good while, but she felt better. Lilith took out what looked to be a shrunken record player from her pocket, and the speakers were quite small. Yet, somehow, it filled up the entire area. 

“Do you want to dance with me?” Lilith asked, holding out her hand.

“I would love to. I can’t promise I’m any good, though.” 

Rosie and Lilith never did get back together, however whether that was genuine disinterest or Lilith keeping her vows was never fully known, not even by them. And, oddly enough, they felt like as long as the other was around, in any relationship, they would be okay. They could, they would, and they did. They were a remarkable thing, really. A lily and a rose, not trying to outshine each other, not in separate places or taking up too many resources. And yet, not intertwined either. 

They were simply in the same field of flowers. And that would be enough. 

**~**

**Hold me close and hold me fast**  
**The magic spell you cast**  
**This is la vie en rose**

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism mean the world to me!


End file.
